Moving Forward
by AnHeiressofaSOLDIER
Summary: After escaping the Phantom's lair with Raoul-and getting ready to begin their new and happy life together-Christine has time to reflect on the things that have happened, and things that might happen still. Through it all, though-and via the reassuring presence of Raoul-she begins to heal, and even thinks of a way to benefit those similar to the man that she can't yet forgive.


**Moving Forward**

The first thing Christine did—when she and Raoul got back from the Phantom's Lair, and headed for his father's house—was cry.

She did not cry for Erik's fate, or because she loved him—though tears for his fate would certainly come later—but instead she cried for the trauma of it all: the irrational fear inside of her that the Phantom would still come after her even now, for all the lives that had been lost to his murderous hands, and she even cried angrily—in thinking of all the terrible things she had just had to go through.

She had been lied to, hypnotized, kidnapped, and molested all by the man who had once inspired her voice:

The man she had thought to be an angel sent by her father.

And now, as Christine allowed it all to sink in really for the first time—and she thought aghast about the girl she'd been under _his_ control; the girl he might have _made_ her become if she'd stayed—she found that she couldn't handle it all.

And Raoul watched her with a helpless demeanor to him—Christine could see it from the corner of her eye, as she sat in the carriage, and she wished that she could let him know just how help _ful_ he was. She wouldn't have been _anything_ right now without his kind strength—the kind strength he showed by reaching an arm across the buggy, in order to put a tentative and reassuring hand atop her shoulder.

In the end, though, Christine's words for this escaped her. And almost in penance for that slight, it was in that moment that Christine was able to sit up straighter in her seat, and get it together just a little bit more.

Even so, Raoul watched her worriedly, and Christine _loathed_ what she saw in his eyes when she looked into him: the question about whether she loved Erik or not, and was maybe even now contemplating her choice.

As it happened, Christine wasn't in love with that man at all, for she'd long since understood all of the horrors that existed in the elusive "Phantom's" soul—ones that would undoubtedly be there until the end of time—and she was even tired of her own delusions about him, and yet...

She did feel a certain sympathy, pity, and platonic sort of love for the broken man.

She wanted to show him a kinder world then the one that he'd seen, that there was still a chance for him among people milling about, if he could reclaim his soul again.

Christine wanted to help him so very badly—to teach him, even—but at the same time she knew it could never be, and really... she didn't _want_ such a future to exist.

She was very much tired of darkness, and the things that went bump in the night, but how to explain all of this to Raoul?

The former opera singer knew that if she were to, he would never understand the slight good that she herself had seen in the Opera Ghost.

He'd be kind enough to hear her out, Christine knew—and maybe even try to understand her words the slightest bit—but there would always be something in his countenance that would give his true feelings about it away.

And Christine couldn't fault him for it, either, as every time _she_ even thought of the Phantom, she saw blood, blood, and _so_ much more blood.

And she knew... she knew, too, all of the _horrifying_ ways that he had treated her, and Raoul, of course, knew of it, too.

If nothing else, Christine still found herself hoping that the police wouldn't catch him, and that maybe some sort of light could shine down on _him_ to give a second chance.

And, it was just as she was thinking this, that sunlight began to stream through the carriage's open window, and the two in the cab arrived at their destination, and now…

Now certain were beginning to right themselves within Christine's head.

Squeezing Raoul's hand once—as this new idea came to her even more, and filled her up with a mirth she hadn't known in a _long_ time—Christine quickly smiled at him, and then ran out the open door as soon as she was able: enjoying the feeling of wet slush against her feet, and the new life it hinted at of grass and dew, instead of cobblestones and dust.

Different and a bit scary it was, yes, but something Christine could become more than content with and enjoy, after everything she'd been through.

Yes, she could do this...

"Christine!" Raoul called for her, as she began charging up the side of a sprightly green hill, overlooking a valley with some sightly trees, and quite a few black swings hanging from them. She sighed at them in bliss.

"Christine, what is it? What's wron-"

"I'm fine, Raoul. I'm just fine," and Christine was glad to find that she _truly_ was, and that Raoul's voice no longer encased in the panic that it had been forced into for far too many days now.

In fact, he even seemed a bit excited and intrigued himself now, at the prospect of the unknown for them.

"It's just... That I just feel so bad for him, Raoul: even though I know I shouldn't! And originally, I thought that maybe I should try and keep in contact with him sometimes: to try and show that his life still means something to _someone_ , but now… I think I have a better solution:

"I'm going to become a teacher, Raoul. I'm going to teach children who might have been as tortured as he was, and therefore need me. I'm going to guide them, and in doing so I won't allow what happened to Erik to happen to _them_.

"I think... I think that's the best choice. Something _he_ might have liked, even, if he hadn't lost his mind. So as he once taught me, I will now teach others.

"And who knows... with his 'supernatural' gifts, maybe he'll even somehow find this all out and find relief that way."

Honestly, Christine wasn't even sure what she'd been hoping that Raoul would think of her personal tirade. She knew without a doubt that it was probably the longest and most impassioned speech she'd ever made, if not a bit random.

And as she stood a bit precariously a bit on the hill—and tried to catch her breath and to bring her arms down, from where they'd been demonstrating things during her words—Christine really had to wonder just what she'd been thinking.

But Raoul... _bless_ him—proving why he _was_ the light of her life, and why she needed him so much, always—kindly pulled her to his side, and kissed where her Adam's apple would have been, were she male (and as teachers never wanted for that particular fruit in their classroom, Christine understood without delay where his thoughts had taken him), and he whispered there—gave his acquiesce:

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Christine. I know that you don't want to use your singing voice anymore, but it'd be a sad day indeed, were you to remove your wonderfully spun ideas from the next generation _completely_. I think that this is a beautiful idea."

And as Christine smiled to this—perhaps feeling happier than she'd ever been in her life—Raoul feathered kisses onto the girl's neck that were quick to fester desire within her.

And it was good, too, for Raoul asked and _never_ took, and that was what made all the difference:

That was what made Christine's heart begin to pump blood through her veins again, and to begin the slow process of eventual healing.

And after this agreement with each other—the first time they'd really thought to talk since the whole disaster that was Don Juan—the two went down to one of the little swings, that Christine had earlier seen, hand-in-hand.

And as Raoul pushed his fiancée on it gingerly and with much merit, Christine got closer and closer to the sky, and she reached for it:

Reached for an ethereal thing that represented that anything _was_ possible, and that they would move forward in their lives, as they were meant to, and find their long awaited peace.

And who knew? Maybe even a certain deranged Phantom could let go of that part of himself for a moment, and find tranquility in the sun and new world he'd now have to face slowly bus surely.

…

And yes, dear readers, eventually Erik did get word of Christine's beautiful attempts at, and smiled what might have been the first true look of glee in his life: finding that it was much more than enough for the "Angel in Hell".

 **Author's Note: I feel like I should explain my inspiration for this:**

 **So around nine years ago, about when I was thirteen, I watched The Phantom of the Opera (movie) for the first time and completely fell in love with it.**

 **In fact, the entire year after it had come out on DVD, my sister and I watched it Every. Single. Day. At least the songs, anyway, and we would sing along with it, enjoy it, and it was lovely… until we both got really sick of it and even had the whole thing memorized, of course. LOL.**

 **But anyway, back then… I was VERY sympathetic with the Phantom. To the point where at first I had to ask my older sister why Christine hadn't chosen him, in which case she—very rightfully—pointed out the murders he'd done, and so I put those thoughts behind me and began shipping Raoul/Christine. However, there was still always a part of me that wished for Erik/Christine.**

 **So last Wednesday, I ended up rewatching the film with my boyfriend for the first time since I was thirteen, and…**

 **OMG. The Phantom Is. Absolutely. Horrifying. His relationship with Christine—and definitely all the stuff he does—is NOT okay AT all.**

 **And though I was young before (and for the most part always had a good head on my shoulders about the prospect of it all), I regret not seeing him for as bad as he really was back then. I'm glad, however, that I was able to rewatch the movie and have this all put into perspective for me now, though.**

 **I also have a new love and respect for Phantom now, for highlighting such an unhealthy relationship, and showing why it's bad, and why it rightfully shouldn't be a thing at all.**

 **Team Raoul/Christine for me all the way.**

 **Now, don't get me wrong: I DO feel for Erik. I REALLY do. I also still really sympathize with him, but as Christine said, he corrupted HIMSELF and can't really be saved because of it. At least not by her love, as he thinks.**

 **But, yeah: this whole fic was just me trying to vent my newfound feelings of this all out, and to give Eric SOME semblance of happiness—because I do think he SO deserves that, at least—and to allow Raoul and Christine to heal.**

 **So I hope you all maybe enjoyed this ride? I don't know how good or in-character it is, as I've never written for this fandom before, but at least it's something, I suppose.**

… **And now I'm hoping I didn't offend anyone here. If you like Erik/Christine, that's totally TOTALLY fine. And I SO see why you would.**

 **In fact, in fanon and in better circumstances, I'd probably be for them one-HUNDRED percent.**

 **But in canon? I, personally, just can't get behind the pair at all anymore, and can't just sweep all that The Phantom did under the rug, and thus Raoul/Christine is my beautiful and beloved ship for canon:)**

 **I really hope this was at least SOMEWHAT decent, and in line with the characters and their characterizations (I wanted to keep this seemingly canon, if at all possible)…**

 **And… I'm totally pretending that "Love Never Dies" never happened here, btw.**

 **Anywho, thanks a bunch for reading!**

 **Edit: Major thanks goes to Igenlode Wordsmith, who helped me make this story a lot better than it originally was. Major kudos definitely go out to that awesome person:)**


End file.
